Kyouson
by LeonaWriter
Summary: When Daisuke accidentally activates an artwork that grants desires, both he and Satoshi will have to deal with the consequences. They've both got unexpected new tenants.
1. Warning of Desire

Kyouson

Chapter one – Warning about Desire

AN: Beware in some places for mind breakage. I will use both manga and anime as canon. At times this may clash, but make your own timelines for it all – I count it all as canon, and there are some bits I'll use and others I won't. I hope that's about as confusing as it's gonna get.

---

The weather was good, wind blowing just hard enough for flight yet not so strong as to make the air currents too much to bear.

Every so often the moon would come into view, but it wasn't coming out from behind the clouds – there weren't really enough, and it would have been a clear night if it hadn't been for everything going on. Instead, it was the helicopters – both of the press and the police – that hid the moon and blotted out the stars.

Just in front of the Azumano art museum and outside of the cordoned-off police area around the building, was a group of people.

"Alright – sound?"

"Sound's fine."

"Time?"

There was a rustle as the nearby crowd all checked their watches and timepieces.

"Still five minutes."

"Cameras?"

"Five, four, three, two. . . one – cameras rolling! We're on air!"

And suddenly, the chaos turned glamorous.

"Hello and good evening with CBS News, and it's less than five minutes until the time written on Kaitou Dark's warning note, which was found by the police just yesterday! Now, as I'm sure you all know by now, Dark's target tonight is the only just donate statue made of marble and silver, named 'The Desire of Janus'. Like nearly all of the artworks that Dark steals, the Desire of Janus, or Yanae as it is also known in the art world, has a long history behind her, as a great many tales have spread from the legend that this beautiful dancing girl can grant one's heart's desire. Yes, you heard me right! Unfortunately, no actual proof of this miraculous legend being true has ever been verified."

The news reporter made a show of looking at her watch, excitement evident on her face, despite what was supposed to be a professional outlook. Unsurprisingly, no one seemed to mind.

"It's not very long at all now until Dark should be appearing, and have no fear; we at CBS News will be recording it all, doing our absolute best to catch the Kaitou Dark – on film!"

The cameras kept rolling.

---

_Hey, there! Niwa Daisuke here._

_Now, I'd like to be able to say that I'm just your average eighth grader – fourteen, red hair, really cute girlfriend, just managing to get passing grades in all the right subjects. . ._

_. . . but that'd be a lie._

_You only really have to look at me right now to tell. Go on. It isn't that hard. Yes, that's me, and no, this time it wouldn't be a lie. Tallish, dark purple hair, same colour eyes, outfit in varying shades of black (as chosen by my mom, so don't blame me or him) and . . . er, yeah. The one with wings._

_It's simple, really. But at the same time, I suppose you could call it complicated, too._

_You see, that guy you're seeing – Kaitou Dark – is me. But I'm Daisuke._

_I transform into Dark whenever the love genes in my DNA are activated. The same principle applies to him, turning him back into me._

_There's more, but I don't think you need to hear all that to know that what I said before is true._

_Sometimes, I wish things were simple. That I really was just a normal eighth grader kid going through the motions of life as everyone else knows it._

_Then I remember everything else about my life, the quirks of having Dark around that, even if he is an annoying idiot, I would miss greatly._

_So I just get on with life, with being Niwa Daisuke (and Dark). After all, it's not as if I could actually _do_ something about all this, right?_

---

Running. Running was good. So was disabling traps he was pretty sure his mother hadn't helped to set up – at least, he was pretty sure that she wasn't advising Hiwatari-kun in her spare time.

Deep in the back of dark's mind, Daisuke cringed at the unwanted image even as it formed.

"_Daisuke – you're distracting me."_

Oops. Not the best thing to do.

Looking out of Dark's eyes, he started. It wouldn't be too long until they were there.

Through the laser maze, over the pit trap wires and trapdoor – that must have come with the building, Hiwatari knew that such things were useless against them – around the corner, through the door (being careful about the handle, remembering one of his mom's favourite tricks) and they were there.

Dark went into the room with easy strides, belying the fact that he had just been through an assault course of criminal-catching traps set up by the police and –

A flash of blue vanished around a corner, light glinting off of glasses hidden by wall and shadow.

The corridor that Dark had just come down was blocked of with the hit of what was presumably a button on a remote or the activation of a booby trap meant to delay or catch the thief.

Dark laughed.

"You really think that that's going to slow me down? My, commander – you must be getting rusty."

Hiwatari just walked calmly out from his hiding place, pushing his glasses up with one finger. His other hand was in his pocket. Where they couldn't see what he was doing with it.

"I won't let you take the Yanae, Dark."

The thief leaned casually back against the wall.

"You've told me that you wouldn't let me take an awful lot of things, commander. For some reason, you've never been able to see that through. I wonder why that is?"

He smirked and glanced – just glanced – at the life-sized statue of a girl holding what appeared to be a silver plate in her hand.

"That's a fake."

Hiwatari didn't even blink.

"I know." He started to walk away, disappearing behind the pillars holding up the high ceiling at regular intervals. "I told you," he said coldly, "I don't –" he cut himself off. "I won't let you."

Dark went after him, but even as he did so taking a different route than the exact steps Daisuke's classmate had taken. Hiwatari-kun could be a very tricky person to deal with, at times. It just so happened that this was turning out to be one of those times.

---

Satoshi ran. Hopefully, running far enough away from the Yanae that Dark would be far away from it, perhaps be caught out by a trap of some kind, before remembering what it as that the thief was even there for.

He had been serious, about the Desire of Janus. Some things didn't have to have weapons to be dangerous, and the Yanae was a prime example of that.

A man's desires could get him killed – or worse.

It had, after all, been the desire of one of his ancestors that had created the thief that was currently pursuing him – and the monster inside of him, Satoshi, that lived off of the Hikari line, and was now trying to get out.

He stumbled and almost tripped as another lance of pain shot through him. Gasping, he launched himself back to his feet and forced his legs to work, but only made it as far as the ornate doorway between the two galleries before collapsing to his knees and clutching at his heart.

His glasses fell to the cold stone floor with a clatter of glass and metal.

For a few precious moments, there was only blessed darkness.

Then, the would turned white and gold.

---

Dark froze still at the clear sound of the commander's glasses clattering to the floor.

_Not good. Very not good. In fact, very bad. Very, _very_ bad._

Seconds later, his suspicions were confirmed when a telling light shone forth, originating from the direction the Hiwatari boy had gone, feathers exploding into the air as white wings burst forth, blowing gusts of air into both halls and knocking over several priceless yet powerless artefacts.

Dark ignored them. None had been what he had been after, and there were more important things vying for his attention.

'_Dark!'_

He scowled as he launched himself to one side to avoid the glowing white feather that had been sent his way.

'_Thank you, Captain Obvious! I can see the luminous white projectiles coming towards me pefec-'_

He was cut off when another luminous white projectile almost gave him a haircut.

"Don't be so bitter, Satoshi-sama!" Krad was saying as he straightened up to face Dark. "This is what you _want_. To catch the infamous Dark Mousy, make him _pay_." With each step, the manic look in the deranged angel's eyes grew. Long legs started to run, powerful wings beating a tempo of wind that blew up the dust that had settled there undisturbed for decades, or even centuries.

With a disquieting grin on his face, the devilish angel shot forward like a bullet out of a gun in the direction from which they had come from.

Not having to think, knowing all too well what flip side of his self could do if left unsupervised and unwatched, Dark summoned Wiz to him and followed after.

"_You_ know what she can do too, don't you, Dark? She was lost and now she is found once more, but you never truly lost sight of her history, what she meant, did you? Did _any_ of us?"

'_Dark? Dark, what did he mean by that?'_

Daisuke's only reply was the clenching of Dark's fists in frustration.

'_Dark?'_

Dark grimaced.

'_You know of the Yanae, right?'_

'_Well, yeah. We're supposed to be stealing it right now, aren't we?'_

Dark rolled his eyes. Sometimes, other self or not, Daisuke could be. . . slow.

"More than that. Emiko didn't tell you much, did she?" Giving most of his attention to flying, following and not knocking over too many things in the rooms and halls, he didn't wait for Daisuke's reply. "The Yanae is old – not as old as me, but – you get the picture. She- "

A sharp swerve from the other angel almost left Dark as a smear of feathers on the doorframe.

'_I thought he _wanted_ us to be following him!_' Daisuke squeaked.

'_Yeah, but it wouldn't be much like him to pass up on an opportunity, would it?'_

"_Think_ about it, Satoshi-sama. All of your desires, _possible_. We could have him chained, bound, imprisoned, _sealed_. Whatever you _want_."

This time, Daisuke was quiet.

"She can _do_ that," Dark said, answering the silent question. With a beat of Wiz's wings, he straightened and touched down, still light on his feet as a feather floating slowly to the ground. Each step carefully taken into a seemingly empty room. Not even Krad remained within their sights.

But the room that they had stumbled into wasn't empty. The moment he had crossed the threshold and stepped inside, the spirit of the artwork called out to him, singing and alive.

Well, at lest he and Daisuke were still alive. That had to be a good thing.

A rush of wind from the downbeat of a wing caused him to cover his eyes to shield them from the dust. Squinting up, he could see the cause – the fallen angel, more so than he, held aloft at the top of the roof, a slight blur of blue, gold and white as he made one sharp and swift movement.

Without needing to see it clearly, Dark could tell that it was the _Yanae_ that was supposed to be falling to earth after Krad's enraged fit of far-off anger. Supposed to be, but wasn't, falling. Not the way that a piece of art made out of marble and silver was supposed to fall.

With every slow meter that she descended, she seemed a little more real. It could have been the pale rays of the full moon that made her dress flutter, the harsh police floodlights around the museum that made her hair stream out behind her. But it couldn't have been either that made her eyes open slowly, just enough, and blink.

She smiled.

"You called me. You _called_ me."

Dark took a step backwards, waving his hands about in refusal. "Wha- ? _What?!_"

It was a rule of thumb. He – and Phantom Thieves in general – protect the art, collect the art, but they weren't ever supposed to activate the art.

So if Krad, by his earlier show of temper, hadn't been able to and Dark himself wouldn't have done it even if he had wanted to, then who had?

---

An enraged shout from the other end of the room jerked Daisuke back to full awareness, making him remember where he was and what he was doing there.

"Nice time to come back to us, Daisuke. Now, if we had the time, I'd ask if you had any idea what the hell just happened there. But since we don't- "

Dark ducked and rolled as something hard and fast connected with the air where his head had been a moment previously.

_Hiwatari-kun!_

A glance back. Krad's face was a mask of desperation, anger and . . . was that. . . pain?

'_Good. . .'_

'_But Dark, what about the_-' he was cut off by a vision, a memory of a girl. It wasn't the kind of sight that would get his heart thumping and make him (dangerously, at this point in time) turn back into himself again. It was just a strange, mysterious kind of smile. . . and he was seeing it again. Not right in front of him this time, but a little further away. Moving – or was it just him (Dark)? – in a blur of grey and brown and white and blue and gold and silver and black, all with the ever-present purple at the edges of his vision.

He wished. . . he wished that this didn't have to be happening. He and Hiwatari-kun were friends, even if he and dark were almost the opposite of that, and even then they respected each other. Dark, at least, did not hate Hiwatari-kun, and he was pretty sure that he didn't always mean all... all right, some of the things he said about Hiwatari. None of them should have to go through this. Especially not Satoshi.

But this was how it was. There wasn't anything he could do about it.

It saddened him. It made him frustrated. Maybe even a bit angry. He let out a long breath.

'_Dark. . . Dark, come on. Let's go.'_

'_Now isn't the best time to be talking, Daisuke.'_

'_Hiwatari-kun can't take much more of this, Dark!'_

'_Good!_'

Krad's face contorted in pain once again from a blow not dealt by Dark. In a last fit of fury, he sent a wave of power out in the direction of the artwork, presumably to knock her over, to break and shatter. One of his eyes flickered blue.

_'NOT good!'_

The Yanae fell, turning back to her usual marble and silver only once she was on the floor, laying there as if in sleep, smile still on her face as if carved there. Dark grinned.

"Who would've guessed – smart art."

He captured the frozen dancing girl at a run, the bend down to pick it up not breaking his stride at all.

Trusting that Wiz would be able to find and get to them once they were outside and in the free air once more, Dark slid carefully and quietly back into the shadows.

---

Satoshi came back to awareness slowly, all too aware of the heavy exhaustion that was already falling onto him due to Krad's liberal and uncaring use of power. He was careful not to give in to the feeling, though. He had not become the commander over all investigations pertaining to the Phantom Thief Dark by being an idiot – he knew that to sleep in this state would be the next best thing to suicide. Various aches form the transformation, possibly internal bleeding due to the fight. His shoulders and back were sore with a familiar yet still brutal pain.

That would be yet another shirt ruined, then. He really should start to learn to take older and baggier clothing to heists where he knew there was less chance of being able to stay as himself. It usually ended up stretching his clothes in strange places even if said clothing wasn't ripped.

He made an attempt at standing up and succeeded, albeit unsteadily and inwardly grateful that there wasn't anyone around to be watching him. . . expecting. . . worrying.

Looking around him, he recognised the wreckage that the two winged beings had wrought, and flinched. It might have been his other self, the monster he became, but somehow, it still seemed like his responsibility more than not.

He should have. . . he should have. . . he didn't know what he should have done. Not within plausibility and probability of whatever plan he might have come up with having worked.

Willing his legs to let him walk, he headed over to the doorway between the galleries, back where it had all begun. His glasses had fallen off there, and there was the slim chance that they hadn't been trodden on underfoot.

He had failed. Yet again, he had failed.

He thought of the events of earlier – seen through another's eyes, but remembered vaguely all the same – and grimaced, putting a hand to his forehead. Who knew what chaos the activated work of art would wreak before it was done?

And this time, the thief couldn't even be useful for once by sealing the thing.

He sighed, looking down at the floor. His glasses were broken.

---

"_Dai-chan!"_

"Oof. . ."

"Ne, Dai-chan, let me see, let me see! Oh, she's beautiful, isn't she, Kosuke-kun? Tou-san? Isn't she pretty?"

"Hmm.... Although I was sure that the _Yanae_ was always pictured as a dancer, Emiko-chan."

Emiko waved a hand unconcernedly about in the air.

"Oh, who worries about these small details? One of _the_ most famous- "

"- and notorious- "

"- pieces of Hikari art! This is so _wonderful_!"

Daisuke yawned. The moment Dark had set them down at a good place to let Daisuke take over, he had withdrawn and fallen asleep within the redhead's mind.

Exhausted and swaying on his feet himself, Daisuke snuck past them, catching and returning his father's understanding smile as he did so. At least he didn't have to worry about his mom's traps – the short time after he got home from a heist was one of those few precious moments of his life that he ever had to walk about his own home without having to keep his wits about him.

Only just remembering that he was still fully dressed in Dark's clothes, he changed lethargically back into his pyjamas, leaving the rest in a heap on his bedroom floor for one of the others to deal with later. All he could think of now was sleep.

With a concerned 'kyuu', Wiz jumped up onto Daisuke's bed and curled up by his pillow, keeping his friend company while he slept.

Hidden from the moonlight, a silent clock began to tick. At a time when all were asleep and no one heard, a soft laugh permeated through the house and into the world beyond.


	2. Warning of Waking Up and School

Kyouson

Chapter Two – A Warning of Waking Up (and school)

Warning: Some spoilers for those of you who haven't read the more up-to-date manga. Story starts about a week or so after Toki no Byoushin, but has themes and facts from the Argentine arc.

_I want to change the world,  
Keep on holding on your desire,  
You will get a shining love,  
That you can reach alone  
If you go on to get your goal,  
It's wonderland_.

- Change The World, from InuYasha.

---

Daisuke woke up to the harsh light of a summer's morning flooding through his window and the feel of something small, soft and heavy batting a paw at his face.

Daisuke batted the intruder away, but wasn't all that surprised when the creature simply retaliated by jumping flat onto his face. After having to cough fur out of his mouth and nose, he rolled over onto his side, meaning that the rabbit-like animal slid sideways onto the pillow.

"Jus' five more minutes, Wiz. . ."

Wiz went kyuu loudly, irritated and worried. There was a brief reprieve, during which Daisuke attempted to burrow further under his covers.

Then, something cold and hard could be felt being dragged onto the bed, and the poking continued.

"Wiz. . ."

Starting to jump up and down, Wiz accidentally (or intentionally, you never quite knew) pressed one of the buttons of the alarm clock, making the thing buzz loudly, startling both occupants of the bed.

In a flash, Daisuke's eyes opened, wide and aware. In less than a second he took in the time on the clock, how bright it was outside and the fact that he was still in bed and proceeded to give out a muffled yelp.

"I'm gonna be _late_! Wiz – Dark, why didn't you wake me up _earlier_?"

As Daisuke jumped out of bed and started attempting to get dressed while only half awake, there was no reply. Still only in pyjamas and house slippers, he slowed down to a halt while reaching for a sock.

"Dark?"

Still nothing. Not even a snore or a single feeling to say that his other self was even there. Daisuke's alarm grew. Surely it shouldn't be taking him this long to recover? And now even if it was, wouldn't Dark still be able to talk to him?

Starting to panic more about this than the possibility of being late for school, Daisuke shouted out for Dark, out loud and in his head. He didn't care if the stupid thief had just gone into a deep beauty sleep – no matter how annoying, Dark was _always_ there. The only time he hadn't had been during the time he had spent in the Toki no Byoushin, and even then he had rescued him. He just wasn't used to the silence any more.

The door opened to reveal a yawning Emiko, already dressed and not a hair out of place but still visibly tired even through her concern, and behind her were Kosuke and Towa.

"Dai-chan, whatever's the matter?"

Daisuke stood back up but attempted to hide his flushed face.

"It's Dark," he said insistently. "I can't hear him – he's not answering me. _I don't understand!_"

Towa started, looking confused. "But he's still _here_," she said. "I'd know if he wasn't."

"But I can't _hear_ him!"

"Calm down, Dai-chan, I'm sure everything's just fine, I'm sure. Wouldn't Towa-chan – eh, _Wiz!_"

The Niwa family familiar had acted according to his name, whizzing out of the door through the small forest of feet and ankles, tickling those who didn't have any socks on yet with his fur. Momentarily distracted, Daisuke – followed close behind by the others – chased after.

"Wiz – get back here!"

Either not hearing or not caring, Wiz didn't do as he was told. Like a furry white blur, he sped down the hall and mostly tumbled down the stairs, leaving a trail of Niwas behind him and catching he attention of Jii-chan as he passed through the kitchen.

"Eh? Wiz?" The old man looked up from his morning paper, but by the time he did Wiz had already vanished. Daisuke and the others stopped, panting, at the bottom of the stairs, and the redhead collapsed down onto the final step. "Daisuke?"

Daisuke grunted, but that was his only acknowledgment. Jii-chan turned to the others.

"Can anyone tell me what's going on here?"

"Well," said Emiko, raising a thoughtful finger to her lips with a frown, "we don't really know. We went to check on him when we heard him calling out for Dark, but I didn't really understand what could have gotten him so worked up. And then Wiz ran off, and here we are. . ."

Emiko's father frowned, put his paper down and looked at his grandson.

"Daisuke. You know as well as I do how hard it is to get rid of Dark. Now, assuming that the elder Harada sister didn't have anything to do with this," Daisuke mutely shook his head, "and that Towa-chan can't sense anything wrong, then everything should be just fine. Right, Towa-chan?"

Towa nodded vigorously, light violet hair flying. "Yes. Well – everything's just fine."

"You see?" said Jii-chan, beaming and apparently not catching the distracted tone she had spoken in.

"But – that doesn't make sense, Daisuke said at last. "I still can't feel him. He's not here. What if something's happened? If something's wrong?" He stood up, but averted his gaze from his family, instead tearing a hand through scruffy red bed hair. "Dark. . . he said that the Yanae _could_ grant wishes. Desires. And – and _Krad_ was there – and _what if something's happened?_"

Eyes going red and sore, tears threatened. A hand reached out to offer him a handkerchief, which he took but held simply in a tight grip.

A hand found its way to his shoulder and Daisuke looked up only to find his father looking not down at him, but across to a quizzical-looking Towa. Who was staring, bewildered, in the direction of the basement.

Which happened to be the place where the Niwa clan sealed what art it was possible to seal without Dark, and also the main entrance to many of their underground paths, passageways and tunnels.

"What is it, Towa?"

The artwork blinked and shook her head in the manner of someone who is trying to either remember or forget something important.

"Oh, don't mind me, it's nothing, I –"

Daisuke sighed, cutting her off.

"It's Wiz, isn't it," he said. It wasn't a question. There wasn't enough inflection for that. All the same, his legs still found themselves placing one foot in front of the other towards the hidden door to the staircase that lead to the basement. Emiko and Kosuke shared a look, and followed, only to be blocked a meter or so from the bottom of the winding staircase when Daisuke himself stopped dead in his tracks. Unable to see due to the stairs themselves and the fact that they were behind him, Daisuke's parents could not see a reason for the sudden halt, until a familiar noise echoed through the tall room.

"_Kyuu. . .?_"

The elder Niwas' eyes widened in shock when Daisuke leapt the last few steps and rushed over to the prone figure lying on the cold floor.

The figure who looked about seventeen, wearing the same costume that Daisuke had taken off the previous night before going to bed, and with dark, flowing purple hair obscuring most of his face from view.

"_Dark!?_"

At Daisuke's shout, the figure twitched and his head moved, causing hair to fall free from his face. Purple eyes blinked, at first bleary, then widening in confusion and shock. Jumping into wakefulness so quickly that one could almost believe that he had been feigning sleep, Dark scrambled back, sitting upright when the rush of blood to his head made standing up straight away not such a good idea.

"Wait – what – I thought we'd dealt with that pesky artwork!"

Daisuke didn't say anything, too shocked to even move much further. This was real, not a dream, or anything like it. And Dark was right there in front of him. Not in his head.

In fact, even though they were staring each other in the eyes, the usual mental connection was. . . gone. Completely shattered, at least so far as they could tell.

"I believe," Kosuke said when neither boy nor thief looked ready to say anything further, "that this might even be the work of an entirely different artwork altogether. Don't you, Daisuke?"

Daisuke started slightly at the sound of his own name, but somehow couldn't take his eyes off of the impossible figure getting to his feet.

_This. . . is just too weird_, they both decided, unknowing of the other's thoughts.

---

Wakefulness, like always, came slowly.

First came reality, invading itself into his dreams. Then distant sounds made their way into his consciousness, and at long last he could feel his covers all around him, the pain of still recovering from the night before, back aching and muscles still cramped, even though he had been moving about in his sleep. Finally, he was dragged into an at least half awake state when the light coming in from his window caught his eyes and his lids turned red.

Opening them slightly, he winced and put an arm over his forehead to give a little shade. With a groan, he closed them once more and rolled over. After all, he might be a student, the commander of a police force, and the tamer of his family's curse, but above all, no matter how hard people had tried to steer him clear of bad habits, he was still first and foremost a teenager, and at this moment he wanted – needed – sleep.

He was in the process of burying his face into his pillow when he first felt it and noticed what he should have noticed moments before. That he had fallen into something – somebody's – shadow when turning to what was supposed to be the welcoming empty darkness of the rest of his room. The familiar feeling of being watched, so different from when he was on the job and stalking Dark, more constant, more possessive, more like –

His eyes shot open, this time not streaming from the sunlight, perhaps because of the fact that it was darker in this direction, perhaps because his mind had overridden his body, reflexive actions overriding the instinctive.

Blue eyes locked on to golden-amber, narrowed while the other simply looked at him with an indecipherable smile on his face.

"_You_. Get. . . _away_ from me. Now."

A single fine eyebrow rose in what appeared to be a form of amusement. It was a look that he had seen a great many times when dealing with the homicidal blond that he unwillingly timeshared with, but for some reason there was something decidedly off about it this time.

"Come, now. Really . . . is that any way to greet me as I sit before you like this, Satoshi-sama?"

Satoshi merely clenched his jaw and sat up further, finding his glasses and putting them on. By the time he had done so, the gold-and-white figure was still there, watching him. As if he were some sort of interesting caged animal.

"I said," he repeated, becoming calmer with an effort, "that you should get away from me. Go back to where you came from. And this time, stay there."

The amusement in the golden eyes definitely grew at this. As well as something similar to triumph that wasn't exactly the same as any of the other times he had seen the emotion in the other's eyes.

"I am afraid, Satoshi-sama, that that is something that I am unable to do."

Behind glasses, his eyes narrowed. He wasn't in the mood for this. Not after what had happened the previous night.

"I've had enough of your lies and your tricks, Krad. Now – get out of my way."

Obliging him and like always putting on a show, Krad did so, standing up and moving so that Satoshi could get out of bed, slide into his house slippers and out into the hall, from which he could get to the bathroom and start to get ready for the day without the other's attention on him all of the time.

He slid past, not wanting to so much as touch the space where the other was standing, not wanting to be so slow that he would give away how disoriented he was to be up and moving so quickly after waking up. It was something Krad would expect, having to use the same body, and –

Something was wrong. More than halfway through his bathroom routine, and the constant unwanted presence had still not returned to the back of his mind. Satoshi had trained himself ever since he had realised what it would mean to have been born a Hikari, and even more ever since the curse had awakened itself. He always knew at some level how active this half of the artwork was in his mind. When Krad materialised himself at times, it was a simple manipulation of mind's eye and imagination. Even then he could not truly become separate from Satoshi himself.

Yet ever since he had woken, he had felt no magic, no awareness attentive to any and all slip-ups he might make, no constant danger. Only a strange sort of numbness where all of that had been.

At any other time, this might have been enough to make him smile. Now, though, with the thought of the figure he had left in his room. . . it only served to make his blood grow cold.

"_I am afraid, Satoshi-sama, that that is something that I am unable to do."_

Hurriedly, he finished getting dressed and went back into his room with the full expectation that it would be empty when he got back there. . .

. . . and it was not.

There, sitting on his bed and still dressed in that ridiculous getup that always somehow materialised when the other came out and hair fallen flat on the covers, was Krad, face mostly shadowed by his hair yet still visibly looking fixatedly at some point beyond the head end of his bed. It seemed almost as though he had not even noticed that Satoshi had returned at all. He saw a single pale fist clench once on top of the sheets, then relax. Slowly and controlled, the head moved and golden eyes fixed themselves on him, as if acknowledging that at long last he had come to understand what was happening. For a long, almost endless moment, it was just the two of them, challenging and questioning silently, no mental voices to carry thoughts or physical ones to break the silence.

The phone rang, breaking the moment. Amber narrowed, glittering like some gem stone that was beautiful to look at, but could cut you if you so much as touched it. Before the machine picked up Satoshi answered, carefully not letting on that he was anything but calm.

"Hiwatari-kun!" came the familiar voice. "Thank goodness you're still there and you're awake! Listen-"

"I'm sorry," Satoshi said, cutting across Daisuke and hoping that the other boy would understand the message he was trying to put across. "I happen to be busy right now. No, I can't talk right now."

"But this is important, Hiwatari-kun!"

"I understand that," he replied, fighting the urge to snap. "But I simply do not have the time right now. I'm sure that you understand that much, and if it really is that important, then it can wait just a few minutes, officer. If it isn't, then I shall see you at work."

With that, he put the phone back on its cradle, not bothering to wait to hear Niwa's inevitably confused reply.

Avoiding any more eye contact with the angelic being on his bed as much as possible, he retrieved the few items needed to go to school, and headed over to the door. Just as he was about to leave, however, he thought of something, and turned back enough that his voice would carry to wherever the blond was in his apartment.

"No matter what happens today, no matter _what_, do _not_ set one foot outside of this place." He hesitated. "And find something else to wear."

And then Hiwatari Satoshi was gone, before he could think any further on the matter. Which was probably a good thing.

---

Daisuke stared at the phone in his hand that was still making engaged tones. His family was gathered all around him, and although Emiko had at first been the most adverse to the idea, she had been hanging on to every word he had said nonetheless. Now, they were watching him. Dark himself was standing a short way away, arms crossed and minus the heavily buckled coat that he had been found asleep in.

"Well? What did creepy boy say?"

"He didn't say anything. And don't call him that – Hiwatari-kun's not creepy."

Dark snorted. "Yeah, right. He was saying something to you or you wouldn't have been talking back."

Daisuke shot his other self a look. "He kept saying he couldn't talk, and then he pretended as though I was someone calling from his work, all right?"

Dark didn't reply, but looked over at Kosuke with an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. Daisuke's father returned the gaze with a slight nod which Daisuke himself completely missed, having seen the time on the phone's caller display.

With a rush of wind, the youngest thief in the Niwa household practically flew past them, a strange mantra on his lips.

"I'm gonna be late I'm gonna be late I'm gonna be late!"

Various of the other Niwas sweatdropped slightly at the panicked behaviour as the redhead set a new record time and was out of the house within minutes. He still didn't make it in time for the cart, though – meaning that he had to go that much farther on foot, without help and without company. It helped to concentrate on the journey itself, on what he was doing, what was possibly going to happen that day, even the prospect of being late, over the fact that his mind was, for the first time since that heist on his fourteenth birthday, silent but for his own thoughts. And this time, Dark wasn't even in danger – unless you counted being in the Niwa house and surrounded by people like his mom and grandfather and father and Towa in danger, that is.

He arrived panting and out of breath, giving profuse apologies to the teacher as he entered the classroom and trying to ignore the stares of everyone as he sat down. Including but not exclusive to both of the Harada twins, Saehara, and not least Hiwatari-kun himself – who did not in fact look all that much better than he did.

There was a tired air about the other boy, not to mention the fact that his head was practically resting on his desk, gaining multiple noises of adoration for how cute he looked from the fan club. A preoccupied look at times haunted his face when it seemed as though no one else was looking, even though when the teacher asked him a question, he was still able to answer perfectly well.

Blue eyes kept darting looks at him, making Daisuke all the more nervous and jittery, sometimes making him answer the question that had been asked five minutes ago instead of the one that had been asked mere moments before in his unbalanced state.

Then again, it wasn't as though he was having an easy time of concentrating even when people _weren't_ actively trying to distract him. His mind kept wandering back to that morning, seeing Dark, seeing himself, seeing himself reflected off of Dark's eyes. Not in them. Not a part of him.

With a sting in his eyes and the faint whisper of a low buzz in his mind, Daisuke's own head hit the desk with a soft thump just as the teacher looked over at him. Irritated with his behaviour, Saehara punched him not-so-lightly in the shoulder. The redhead apologised, embarrassed, but was well aware and even nervous of Hiwatari – and how he was still watching him.

---

Everyone, whether they realised it or not, breathed a sigh of relief a the end of class. With a scowl showing more emotion than he would usually have dared to feel, he turned on Niwa before the redhead could escape the room.

"You," Satoshi said slowly, as though having to think carefully about his words when in fact he did not, "are a stupid, foolish _idiot_." Niwa blinked, apparently not anticipating such an outburst. "Did you ever, at any point, stop to consider the consequences of your actions?"

At this, the other boy seemed to understand. Or at least, understand something, even if it wasn't what Satoshi had actually meant. He started to go off on a rambling tangent on how sorry he was, debasing himself and bowing in apology – but for the destruction that had been wreaked in the museum the previous night, which hadn't even been Daisuke's fault. _No. . . I hold the blame for that_, he found himself thinking as he re-adjusted his glasses and then held his hand against his forehead in the hopes of staving off the headache that often came from dealing with Niwa. Any Niwa, for that matter. _I know full well that the wanton ruin was my failure, yet the thief is going to be the one to be blamed. I should have known – suspected something, not walked in as blindly as one who knew nothing of Hikari art_. He held up a hand to stop the ongoing tirade, and was almost surprised when there was suddenly actual quiet. He blinked slowly and took his hand down from his eyes.

"That," he said deliberately and not completely without compassion, "was not what I meant."

Niwa's expression cleared to embarrassed, his mouth forming the shape of an 'oh'. "But, then what?"

Satoshi turned to face the window with a sigh.

"You. . . are familiar with what the Yanae is capable of. Am I not correct?"

Niwa nodded, responding with a verbal affirmative after only a little hesitation, all of which Satoshi could see ever so faintly in the mirror that was the window.

He sighed, turning half back towards the redhead.

"What then, precisely, was it that you found yourself wishing for, Niwa Daisuke?"

He could tell that his words had had an effect, not to mention that Niwa had not properly thought on this before, when the boy slumped back into his seat with a dazed look on his face.

"I . . . I can't – I mean I _know_, I just. . ."

Red eyes shot him a look reminiscent of a kicked puppy, or more accurately, a puppy about to be kicked, and knew it, too. Satoshi found himself fingering his temples once again.

"I'm not angry at you, Niwa." At the look of disbelief hastily hidden behind the general facade, he rectified. "At the very least, not for whatever dream it was that you believed in so strongly. I simply wish to know . . . what that dream, that desire of yours, was."

He had a strange feeling that at some level he already knew, but he ignored it, as well as the twinge of envy in his chest. Used to reading body language both as a detective and as an artist, he could clearly see the expectant depression change to intense guilt, perhaps shame. Red eyes focused elsewhere to avoid his gaze, yet in the next moment he found himself looking into them, Niwa's body language speaking in suddenly calm and confident tones.

"What feels like a long time ago now, just after I'd met up with Towa-chan, after the other. . . after Krad first appeared, Dark told me how he had tried to do something that he thought was helpful. Something that would make him disappear. . ." Without Niwa having to say, he knew what that must have been. Dark must have attempted to reveal himself to the elder Harada. But what did that have to do with their situation now? "When I found out, I was upset. I didn't want him to go. I just wanted . . . co-existence."

For a few moments there was a tense yet comfortable silence between them. Birdsong and the waves could be heard from out of the window and the other students' chatter permeated the entirety of the school as the break drew to a close.

The tentative peace was broken when, without warning and unable to resist, Niwa yawned. Not loudly or for very long. Just enough that made his eyes droop slightly afterward, red hair flopping as he attempted to stay on top of the tiredness that they were both feeling. Satoshi sighed, not really annoyed and not even sure that he was even angry with the other boy any longer.

He opened his mouth, perhaps to say something more, but was interrupted by a sudden flow of incoming students, each contributing their own voice to the endless babble of increasing noise, making it impossible to continue any sort of conversation with Niwa, and not least of all any kind of meaningful conversation not laced with half-truths and double meanings. With a sigh, he meandered purposefully back to his seat.

Thinking over the situation that he and Niwa were now in, he barely recognised when his thoughts started to repeat themselves in his head. He only realised that he had fallen asleep – again – when he was woken up fifteen minutes later by a high-pitched squeal closely followed by loud shushing noises. Not bothering to keep up pretences he opened his eyes, lifted his head off of his desk and, ignoring both the fan club and the teacher, simply removed his glasses and put his head back onto the desk, cushioning it this time with his arms.

After all, it was hardly as though he could do anything about his condition at this particular moment in time. And for once, he could afford to let his guard down.

His hand still would not let go of his glasses even so.

---

The rest of his day had passed with the sort of tedium that was usually attributed to the time he put aside to deal with the kind of work he had left over from his other job. It didn't help that, since the previous night had been a heist night, he had piles of that selfsame paperwork waiting for him when he got home.

Irritatingly, even though his equilibrium was mostly righted by lunchtime, leaving him only slightly drowsy for a short time before the feeling tapered off entirely, he still wasn't given any chance to just make the most of the situation. Countless other students who didn't even know him apart from his name came just to make sure that he was 'all right'. Even worse however were the looks Niwa sent him every few minutes from the moment he had found the guts and time to tell his . . . opponent? Rival? Borderline friend, perhaps – or was that pushing it? The truth. That even if what Niwa had wanted most in all the world had been co-existence with his other self, Dark, it was the furthest thing from Satoshi's wishes.

Between having to deal with the stares and looks at school and the problem that he was certain could not have simply waited for him at home, not to mention his still-being-restored off-kilter equilibrium; just one of the effects that came with having Krad separated from him, body and mind, he was driven to pushing a headache back the first moment he was able.

A few blocks away from the school building, away from the general ignorant student population, away from Niwa, he pressed a hand against his forehead. It wouldn't help, but. . . then again, nothing likely would.

With a sigh and a push of his glasses further up his nose, Satoshi simply carried on his way back to the apartment he was so used to being empty apart fro himself.

All went well, with him coolly watching the people he passed as he got further towards his destination, when without warning an unexpected sight caused him to freeze.

It was surreal, unreal even. It was a feeling akin to having a dream or nightmare follow you into the waking world, where the two weren't supposed to and usually didn't mesh. This was not supposed to be happening. He had told the blond to stay inside, there fore Krad _should not_ be standing there on the street corner and, for all intents and purposes, waiting for him to get back.

He hadn't even gotten changed. He was still wearing that antique costume that, if his hair had been cut loose, would have made him look altogether too much like a girl. The fact that his eyes were an unnatural golden shade and had slit pupils did not help. He was attracting attention. Too many stares.

Temper coming to the fore, Satoshi practically stormed over to the figure with all the patience of one who has had too many things happen to them in a short period of time. Without thinking, he grabbed a wrist and all but dragged the blond angel – wings thankfully not out, perhaps the homicidal idiot did have some sense in that pea-sized skull of his – back into the building and up to his apartment. He was silent until they got there, and the smug look on the other's face only made his mood worse.

"_You_," he said, pounding his hand palm down onto the nearest flat surface. "I told _you_ to stay inside. Did you even stop to consider your actions before stepping foot outside looking like that?!" He snorted. "Of course not."

Krad was insufferably calm.

"Yet what else would you have had me do, Satoshi-sama? I simply could not have stayed inside like a caged bird or captured criminal. . . I needed to taste the air, and await your return."

"You could have opened a window."

A single golden eyebrow arched elegantly, saying all that needed to be said. Satoshi snorted bitterly and brushed past him on his way to the kitchen. The supposed 'white' angel was worse at figuring out when he had gone wrong than the thief.

And yet if he _had_ realised that he had done something wrong, then Satoshi, in the state of mind that he was currently in, could not have noticed the minute details, such as eye and hand movements, the creased nature of the now permanently physical clothing and the only slightly messed up hair. Things that in and of themselves were small and scant. That an outsider would not know or be able to comprehend.

Satoshi, also, despite having lived with the homicidal angel within his consciousness for nearly a year now, probably would have noticed, made note, and forgotten. The two were not the same as the Niwas; they did not share.

So Satoshi did not share his anxiety over what was going to happen to him and the people who associated with him now, and over how big an explosion there was going to be when the two halves of the Kokuyoku artwork figured out that the other was also in the real world, with their own body, and why.

So Krad did not share how he had at first felt euphoria at finally having that which he had desired for so long. He had kept to himself the twinge of worry he had felt when Satoshi-sama had reacted that way this morning before school, not caring about his health. He had kept his anger at bay and away from the surface while talking in the hall, even though Satoshi-sama telling – ordering – him to stay in the apartment had been too much like being shoved to the back of their mind and locked away there for his liking.

They eat at different times, in silence, and when they chose to sleep, neither spoke; with the exception of Satoshi laying down the rule that Krad was not under any circumstance other than an emergency to go into Satoshi's room at any point, most specifically when Satoshi himself was in it, and not under pain of extreme pain to attempt to wake the boy up like he had that morning _ever_, ever again.

So Krad slept on the sofa. And neither knew that the other, for the most part, was feeling the same things as they.

---

Daisuke, in a twist of fate, came home to a quiet street, which could be a good sign sometimes and a bad one at others. He doubted it was an altogether good one today, though, as there was a sort of nervous tension in the air. The walk down the garden path was the easy bit. Getting through the front door – now _that_ was the hard part.

"But all I wanted to do was- !"

Daisuke sighed. It seemed that something had already gotten Dark seriously wound up. Luckily, for his family, it sounded more like frustration, and childish frustration, at that.

"Tadaima, minna-san."

Some but not all of the strange noises stopped or quieted while his family called back to him.

"Okaeri, Daisuke." That was Dark. He still couldn't believe this was actually happening. If nothing else, it was weird hearing Dark's voice coming from anywhere other than in his head. "You – can you tell this crazy woman that she's not my jailor!"

He blinked. _Well, that's a new one_.

"Uh- "

"But Dai-chan! Dark wanted to go out. Like that. Of course I couldn't let him!"

Daisuke's eyes boggled. Before, perhaps the thief might have stood a chance. Now, however. . .

"D- DARK! What were you trying to _do_? Get yourself killed or something? _Caught_?!"

There was a thump as Dark jumped straight from the first floor to the hallway just as Daisuke was taking off his shoes. Apparently, mom had been too flustered by the now-corporeal thief to lay any of her usual traps. Except that instead of traps, he was getting a finger poked angrily at his chest, purple hair curtaining between them both, likely hiding both of their faces from view.

"Why you little backstabber. You're forgetting – I'm a kaitou. Not just _a_ kaitou either; the _best_. I'm not gonna get myself caught just like that!"

"But Hiwatari-kun- !"

"Hiwa- what?" Perhaps letting slip the commander's name hadn't been such a good idea. Dark's scowl was positively thunderous. "You told Creepy boy?! What the hell were you thinking?"

The finger pointed at his chest had quickly become a fistful of shirt. Daisuke only crossed his arms and glowered right back.

"But I didn't have to tell him anything! He already knew and figured it out!"

Dark snorted derisively and half turned away just as Daisuke's father slipped onto the scene.

"Yeah, right." The words were confident, but the tone was not. "Liar."

Daisuke let out an angry breath and a half-hearted glare. They couldn't understand each other. Their mind-link gone – snapped somehow or simply frayed through distance, neither knew – they had to rely on mere words and actions, just like anyone else. So far, it wasn't working.

"Dark."

The quiet yet authoritative voice grabbed the attention of both boys. Daisuke because it was his father speaking, and Dark because the man was someone who had out tricked him on at least one occasion and had proved his worth at least a dozen. In other words, a man to be reckoned with. And he was Daisuke's father.

"Yeah, what?"

_But that doesn't mean he's going to act like he respects anyone_, Daisuke thought with relief when his shirt was released. Because that was just who Dark was.

"I agree with the others," the man deadpanned. Before the thief could start to interrupt, however, he put a hand up for attention. "I have reasons," he continued. "Right, Daisuke?"

He looked up.

"Huh?"

"Dark. . . what Daisuke said only confirmed our suspicions. The problem for us is what that means. The Yanae only affects those directly affected by what the person who wished desired. No one else, at least that we are aware of, should have been able to tell that the artwork has been awakened." Dark opened his mouth as if to say something, but Kosuke cut across him again. "And before you say anything, that rule applies to the Hikari family, as well."

Dark's mouth snapped shut. Daisuke didn't know how his dad knew these things _exactly_, but he _did_ know that whenever there was research involved it was always precise, and he always kept Dark's character in mind. Often to Dark's displeasure.

Now, however, Dark looked more like someone had forced him to eat a sour lemon and then set him in the middle of a rampaging horde of fanboys. Slowly, he seemed to fold in on himself, and he leaned not very charmingly against the wall. A look of disgust flittered across his face.

"What you mean is that _he's_ here, too."

No one said anything. In many ways, that was more than enough of an answer. The purple haired thief didn't let this stop him for very long, though.

"I still want out."

There was an instant uproar. Niwas on all sides argued against it – quite apart from the fact that Krad was now to all intents and purposes a free agent, there was the possibility that he might get caught, sighted and recognised or simply just fan mobbed by people who might just think that he bore even the slightest resemblance to the great Kaitou Dark Mousy.

Said kaitou stood his ground through it all. He wasn't stupid, he kept telling everyone, and he was definitely not incapable. Then, he dropped the bombshell.

"Besides," he had been saying, "I want to live it up a little. It's hardly as though this is gonna last forever, you know."

When asked what he meant, Dark explained.

"The Desire of Janus was created after the whole thing with the Hikari and the Niwa started. . . a few hundred years ago, maybe. The Hikari who made it probably thought he could rid himself of his curse." Dark snorted. "Obviously didn't work. Probably did for a while, but still; didn't work."

"And how was that?"

Dark tilted his head at the older dark haired man and smirked.

"Thing has a time limit, and just one rule. I think it's supposed to be about a month. . ."

"What about the rule?" Daisuke asked, uncertain whether this would be a good thing or a bad thing. The Toki no Byoushin had required him to lose his sense of self for a time, and then to draw. Both had not worked, but had been scary and draining.

The look on Dark's face turned serious. Possibly the most serious he had looked all day. Daisuke – and possibly also Jii-chan, who had also been Dark forty years ago – knew that this did not mean that he had never thought about the situation properly, but that he was trying to hide what he felt. That he wasn't hiding now meant something. It had to.

Lids closed over purple eyes for a moment, and then one eye cracked open, looking at them all, but mainly Daisuke.

"It all hinges on the person who activated that artwork," he said. "It would all go back to how it was before. . . if that person, whoever they were, for whatever reason, were to die."

Daisuke's eyes widened. _Die_? But he didn't even know that it had been _him_ who had activated the Yanae. For all he knew it could have been Hiwatari-kun, or Dark, or even Krad, who had been shouting about activating it, even!

"I think I understand," said Kosuke, his tone matching Dark's. The thief had closed his eyes again, head resting back against the wall and staring blankly at the ceiling. "The artwork must draw her power from the life force of whoever activated the power she wields. That way after a certain point, they can sustain it themselves. Before then, they can't."

Dark shrugged.

"Don't ask me. This is the first time I've actually dealt with it."

"What?" asked Emiko as she came in from the next room over, wearing an apron. "Why's that?"

"Why d'you think?" Abruptly, he straightened and stretched, then put his hands in pants pockets with a devilish smirk all over his face. "Pretty girl, grants desires. I could think of plenty who'd want to bandy Yanae about."

The others looked like they could hit him. Daisuke took the honour of doing it himself.

---

_Finally_. Now I can post the arts associated with this chapter. There's one of Daisuke being woken up by Wiz, one of Daisuke running towards a Dark who's asleep in the Niwa basement, and one of Krad sitting on Satoshi's bed. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! For anyone who's wondering, the Yanae isn't really the focus of the story; the relationships between Daisuke, Dark, Satoshi and Krad on the other hand, are. You can expect fan-made histories, though.


	3. Warning of Girls and Crowds

Kyouson

Chapter 3 – A Warning of Girls (and Crowds)

---

The next day started – in a direct contrast to the previous – with both Satoshi and Daisuke being early to class. Yet unlike any other day, the blue haired boy had not simply started to read the moment he found his seat, instead keeping what soon became clear to be only half of his concentration on the things he was writing in his notebook when Niwa tumbled into the room only a few minutes later. Again, unlike his usual routine of sitting straight down or going over to talk with either her, Risa or Takeshi, the redhead went straight over to Hiwatari's seat, evidently relieved that the other boy was there.

Hiwatari silently clicked his pen off and put it down.

"Yes, Niwa?"

"I – I need to talk to you. It's really important." He didn't need to say any more. Hiwatari was nodding in agreement.

_Though how could he know already what it is Niwa-kun needs to talk about?_ Riku wondered, confused.

"I understand."

Niwa sighed in a sort of relief.

"Same problems, huh?"

Hiwatari froze up, suddenly more tense than usual.

"I wouldn't call it the same, Niwa. Similar, perhaps. But not the same."

"Oh," her redhead said in response, wincing. "I'm so- "

"Don't." Hiwatari breathed slowly, once, and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "We can talk more in depth during our lunch period, if that is all right."

Daisuke nodded and when he turned back towards her there was a bright, relieved smile on his face.

Riku was certain, though, that just as the teacher came in and everyone sat down, she could see Hiwatari Satoshi looking at her, with a cool, calculating expression in his eyes.

---

Later that day saw the two sitting on the school roof, various food parcels spread out evenly between them. So far, approximately half had been eaten – mostly by Daisuke, but Satoshi had certainly had more than his usual slice of bead – and the rest was taken care of while they talked. Satoshi pointedly ignored it when the other boy talked with his mouth full sometimes in his haste to say what he thought needed to be said.

"...So," Satoshi said at last. "What was it that you needed to talk about?" He already had an idea, but specifics would be useful.

"I need your help and it's about Dark!" came the harried rush of words. Satoshi's eyebrows raised at the knowledge that Niwa was so troubled as to forget to be worried about names on school grounds. "You know what he's like – he's proud and arrogant and doesn't like being bored and right now he's basically trapped inside my house, and Towa-chan's had to find him a few times already when he tried to escape!"

Niwa stopped, paused for breath, and ended up sighing tiredly. Satoshi bit into a piece of onigiri and swallowed before answering.

"And you came to me with this, because..."

"Well, you're the only other person who knows what's happening! And. . . well, er – we kinda need to know whether or not you're gonna arrest him the moment he steps out of the house. . ."

_Ah. That_. Satoshi pushed his glasses up in a motion to conceal a small smile.

"I can assure you, Niwa, that if I did that, it would do nothing to help. In fact, it was probably make both of our problems ten times worse. So, no. As long as he does not go out of his way to gain my attention. . ."

Niwa caught on quickly, eyes widening and growing brighter, head nodding wildly.

"Thank you very much, Hiwatari-kun! If there's anything I can do for you-!"

"There is," he said, no liking it one bit even if it was necessary. "I need not only you and Dark, but also the rest of your family, to stay as far away as possible from the shopping district this afternoon and evening."

Niwa blinked.

"The. . . oh." Satoshi looked away slightly. "Sorry," the redhead continued softly. "Almost forgot. Mom's been threatening to go on a spending spree herself, so I'll just have to persuade her to do it tomorrow instead, then."

And for a while, they just sat there. It seemed like there wasn't much more one could say after something like that. Nearly a year of hardships, trials and horrors, and now he was forced into being the depraved angel's nursemaid, or mother even. Not because he cared like Niwa cared or through any sort of concern, but because he cared as the police commander he was. If he didn't do these things, then people would get hurt.

The next – and unexpected – words came only a short time before the bell rang.

"Ne, Hiwatari-kun? What. . . are we going to do? At some point, _someone_ is going to look into this. Two people suddenly. . appear. Who look like the famous kaitou and his enemy. Someone's bound to put it together at _some_ point. But... what do we do? What _can_ we do?"

Satoshi picked up his bag and stood, making the sun reflect off of his glasses in order not to see Niwa pleading look. The Niwa. . . they were always supposed to be confident and prideful. Weren't they? Or was that simply his ancestors only seeing Dark in each of Niwa's forebears? He sighed. Either way, it felt somehow wrong to have that look on the face of a boy he might have been proud to call 'friend' if it had not always been a danger for anyone to _be_ his friend. Even now.

"I'm working on it," he said truthfully. "Ask me again tomorrow, and I may have something worked out."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Niwa nod in silent agreement and trust.

Absently but strangely enough not disturbingly, he realised that this was the first time that they had truly worked together for any reason. He didn't say anything, but he also didn't dismiss it. It was an important thought.

---

So far today, Risa hadn't been paying as much attention to her classes as she had been to her older sister. And since Riku had been staring at both Niwa _and_ Hiwatari, then that was where she found herself looking as well. It wasn't as though she didn't feel like doing just that sometimes anyways, after the previous day. Sensei had just about given up on trying to wake the two up at one point. It was a good thing that they looked that much better today, or people would have stared to worry.

Yet there was something in the classroom's atmosphere that was simply more worried, more tense than usual. Niwa and Hiwatari were both on edge, so that meant Takeshi bugged them both more, and Hiwatari's fangirls cooed and simpered over how serious and mature the bluenette looked, and Riku was in a foul temper because Niwa wouldn't tell her what was going on, and therefore spent half her time watching the two boys like a hawk and the rest either snapping at her friends or telling her sister exactly why her boyfriend was so frustrating.

A familiar shadow crossed her and Riku landed on the seat next to her with a light _thump_. Risa sighed.

"What is it this time?"

"This time? I asked sensei about any joint projects they might be doing, but she didn't seem to have any idea either! All she could say was that it had to be some sort of personal or private thing, and that I shouldn't eavesdrop on people. But it wasn't my fault. I was worried."

Risa blew a long hair out of her eyes.

"Have you actually tried to talk to _Niwa-kun_ about all this at all?"

"Yes! That's why I asked sensei about projects – Hiwatari-kun said they were working on something together. They're acting so secretive about whatever it is, though. . . I don't know what to do."

For a moment, the younger sister was almost slightly perplexed. She was worried about Niwa too, and she supposed that she was kind of worried about Hiwatari as well, since he and Niwa were such good friends. After all, Niwa was her good friend! Without Niwa, there would be no one to escort her to Dark's heists every so often, and maybe one day, she might even have another accident if there wasn't somebody there to stop or save her.

The fact that it hadn't been Niwa Daisuke or Dark that had rescued her from the rooftop of the museum building was a thought that hid in the back of her mind, fluttering only every so often on pale white wings.

Quick on its heels however was a thought that almost made her want to smile.

"I wouldn't worry. I'm sure everything's going to be just fine, believe me!"

Riku smiled.

"Thanks. You don't know how much it means. . ."

"Because you know, if I were you, and Niwa-kun were Dark-san, I bet I'd just be worrying for no reason, because he'd actually be planning a really great surprise for me!"

The bell rang and the other students started pouring into the room on their own and in groups.

Riku sighed the sigh of a longsuffering sister.

"Geez, Risa! Is everything always about Dark with you?"

While Riku had been saying that, Niwa and Hiwatari themselves had come through the door. Daisuke froze for a moment, blinked, and looked at Satoshi, who had a rather annoyed yet also amused expression on his face. Unnoticed by the two girls, the redhead smiled embarrassedly back in a weak defence of his other half. Satoshi meanwhile simply sighed and shook his head before going over to his seat and taking out a book.

Risa giggled as the teacher came in and went to her desk, but went to sit down in her own place, leaving her sister shaking her head with a smile on her face.

---

From then on, classes passed quickly. Not because Satoshi was paying attention to what the teacher was saying, of course – not only had he already passed this grade already, and was able to answer any question thrown at him with comparative ease compared to the rest of the class, but trying to concentrate on the classes while he had other things to worry about would have been a waste of time. Not to mention that said other things happened to be thinking about how all of this could have ever happened in the first place. . . and also how he could ever manage to come up with any sort of idea that would actually be plausible to have people _not_ arrest Dark Mousy.

Which was the problem that gave him the most headaches. He was supposed to arrest Dark – it was his job, it was his duty even, as the last surviving Hikari descendant. Yet he had promised Niwa, and through him the other members – both blood and adopted – that he would not arrest the thief on sight. Which would have been hard enough to do even without Krad, and with him. . .

_Well_, he sighed as he left the school grounds after the bell, heading back towards the apartment he now shared with said 'angel'. _It certainly looks to be . . . interesting_.

The same kind of interesting that he would label a night on which Dark had warned the police that he was about to steal a particularly valuable Hikari artwork with particularly _interesting_ uses and effects.

Walking down the familiar streets, he heaved an internal sigh of relief to find that Krad had deemed it not necessary to wait for him out of the apartment today. A small relief, that. One that made him wonder what the other had been doing to amuse himself in the meantime, however.

Coming up to his door, he hesitated for a moment before opening it for those same reasons, but it was his house damn it. The door slid open without a sound, to the exact same picture he always came home to. Frowning slightly, he shut the door with one decisive movement and quickly changed into his house slippers.

A quick examination of the hallway, living room and kitchen turned up absolutely nothing. Taking a precautionary breath to calm himself just in case, he went over the short distance to where his room was. His fists clenched when he did. At the sight, that of the blond sitting cross-legged in the middle of his room, eyes closed and looking for all the world as though he was meditating.

"You. . . I thought that I told you that you weren't allowed in here," Satoshi said pointedly.

Krad merely opened his eyes and looked over at him.

"Ah. You're back."

If he had been in any other more analytical sort of mood, he might have done more than simply take note of the fact that the almost flat stare and the while still formal, nearly monotone speech was hardly ordinary for the light side of the Hikari artwork. As it was, he simply filed it away without much thought, concentrating on the moment and not much beyond it.

"It's my home, Krad, and it was my home before you even came. I told you that you weren't allowed in here. . . so get out."

Not looking at his former host, Krad did so, holding himself in that stiff, formal way of his. After a few minutes, Satoshi went back out to join him, bringing with him an armful of clothes which he tossed at the angel, who was still dressed in that old dress-like outfit of his.

"Change into those," Satoshi said shortly. "They're probably a little small on you, but that's never bothered you before."

As the blond got changed into the black trousers and white shirt in the next room, Satoshi took the time to go back into his room to pick up a few things, such as the wallet he didn't take to school with him. He also changed out of his uniform, all the while looking for any signs that the so-called angel might have done anything while he had been away. Thankfully, there weren't any – though he didn't know precisely what he would be able to do if his other had done anything more than just sit there.

For that matter, he wasn't sure what he was worried about more – the time that would inevitably come when Krad realised that he was the stronger of the two, or if he had already realised this. . . and if he had, what that might mean.

---

Approximately half an hour later, both the blond and the bluenette could be seen walking down the shopping district, side by side. They were garnering a lot of attention . . . a lot of stares. Even with two bags already slung over Krad's shoulder and Satoshi-sama carrying one more, it was more their expressions than their general appearances that people cooed over. Some seemed to see them as silent and deadly. In a way, they were. But in fact, they were probably more deadly to each other at that moment than looking like that simply to look . . . cool, forcing themselves to appear as though they were no different than anyone else there.

Satoshi-sama had briefed him on the story before leaving the house. He was an old friend of a distant family member, if anyone who was ignorant enough to ask did so. The boy had also asked that he not use the honorific '-sama' with his name, but Krad had only smiled sardonically, saying, "Of course, Satoshi-sama." There had been a glare, but apart from that – and various repeated protestations that were promptly ignored on his part – nothing more was said on the matter.

A member of the crowd shoved thoughtlessly into him, disappearing into the mob before Krad could do anything other than twitch and tense at the same time. Perhaps noticing this, there was suddenly a death grip on his arm as Satoshi-sama dragged him into the next shop.

It wasn't as though he was afraid of the large mass of people. That wasn't it. He simply. . . wasn't used to being out and being seen by so many at one time. They weren't police officers, preoccupied with something more important to do. They weren't even reporters. He was used to those types, whether he liked it or not.

It was the crowd of milling people, not there for any better reason than to be there, buying new things that they mostly did not need, and stare at anything that appeared different.

He felt as though he were on parade, on a pedestal. It wasn't a particuarly pleasant feeling to have, and it put him on edge.

Before, he had been perfectly happy to rest in the back of Satoshi-sama's mind, observing and feeling whatever he wished to feel, experiencing whatever he felt necessary to experience, coming out whenever he felt the need to, whenever Satoshi-sama was in danger or thinking inappropriately.

Now, however, as Satoshi-sama took him into yet another store, he could not withdraw at will, no matter how much he might wish to. He could not stop them from staring at what was his. He could not even tell what Satoshi-sama was thinking of right this instant.

Which was, in fact, what he had been attempting to do when Satoshi-sama himself had walked in on him in their old room. . . now Satoshi-sama's alone. He had been attempting to use his magic and his mind to meditate himself into such a state so as to know the true extent of their seperation. He had reached nowhere. All he had been able to sense, the whole time, for _hours_, was only himself.

There was now nothing but a resounding echoe, such as that of one speaking alone in a church full of emptiness and God.

It was. . . distracting.

Distracting enough that he almost did not notice Satoshi-sama hissing at him to follow.

Later, when he sees it, the coat reminds him of the clothes he woke up in; long, floating material that does not look like it would wear away as easily as other cloths. He does not usually wear red; it is a colour mostly reserved for that other. One of its close neighbors is purple, after all. But its borders are white, and there are crosses on the corners of the collar. Satoshi-sama raises his eyes at the – expensive – selection, but allows it.

It's not the same, hasn't got that same created to fit feel that the other coat has, but for the moment, for Satoshi-sama, it will do.

---

"Look, I'm not saying that!"

"Oh, then what are you saying?"

"I wasn't saying anything about that guy! Just that I thought. . ."

"Thought what?"

Harada Risa stopped in the middle of the street.

"Thought. . . that I . . . might have. . ."

Harada Riku stopped just in front of her sister, eyes challenging her to explain what she meant.

"Seen him. . . before. . ."

She trailed off, not sure that she even wanted to say any more. Not only was her mind fuzzy about a lot of the details, but she wasn't even sure any more whether it had been that person that she had seen – after all, why would someone like them be in a place like this?

She shook her head to clear it of the idea. She must have been mistaken. Just a foreigner, it must have been simply some yellow-headed gaijin. If not, maybe a cosplayer – it was hardly as though Hiwatari-kun would be here, now, at the same time. . . right?

She didn't know where the idea of Hiwatari being in the same place as the blond might have come from, and when she tried to trace it down her head started to hurt. So instead, she tried to concentrate on something else instead, believing that if he was the same person, then things would work out so that sooner or later she would find out for real, with more than just a glimpse through the crowds to work from.

Squaring her shoulders, she looked her older sister in the eye with a jaunty smile.

"Doesn't matter, Riku! It's not like that person'd ever measure up to Dark-san, that's for sure," she said with a real giggle. It was true. Such a thing happening was hardly likely.

Riku gave her a disbelieving look but moments later the two were on their way to another shop, this one exclusively selling accessories. Risa already had her eye on a long – and purple – feather boa, a plush jacket badge with feathers on it of the same colour, and a dress that would simply look stunning in the night-time, shimmering with purple sequins.

She smiled, twirling around once, making the dress she was wearing flutter around her legs. Turning back around, she caught the look in Riku's eye, and the faint bemused shake of her head that said that she didn't quite know what to do with her sister, as Risa had been told many a time.

"Riku~! Which jacket do you think this would work better with? Would the badge work with the dress or would that be too gaudy? Or obvious. I don't want to be too obvious – you know, subtlety and all that. . ."

Riku sighed.

"Risa, I don't think I've ever known you to actually use subtlety for that guy. You're usually all _for_ obvious."

"Riku~!"

"Besides, I'm hardly the best person to ask about these sorts of things, am I? You know what I think of that pervert!"

Risa made a show of breaking down into tears for a moment.

"So cold-hearted... I can't believe that a maiden like me has such a person like you as my sister."

She barely missed the hand aimed at her shoulder intending to swat at her.

"Maiden like you? You forget, Risa. I was there when you pulled your delinquent act! You should be glad I never actually told Mom and Dad!"

Artfully tossing her hair out of her face, she smirked.

"I am. I never told them all of what you did either, did I?" She sighed then, with a disaffected air. "I still can't believe you still think of Dark-san that way."

"That makes two of us, then. I can't understand how you're always fawning after him."

Risa shrugged. "Because he's Dark-san." There wasn't really anything more to say to that, in her point of view. It was enough reason. "But really – I need your help. I'm asking you as. . . as someone who's already got a boyfriend, then, alright? Which one looks better? With or without, for this dress?"

"You're not going to let us leave until I give you an answer, are you?" Riku asked, though it was obvious through her flushed complexion that the remark about her and Niwa-kun had worked its magic on her.

"Nope!" She replied cheekily, holding up the dress and the badge against her.

"Without."

---

AN: Originally, that last scene was going to be the twins actually encountering Krad and Satoshi, but that was before I chose to use mostly manga as canon, though there are certain mentions of one anime episode at least here. Thus, without my consent, it became a nice piece of Twin Interaction.


End file.
